Page 25 of Run Wild Omega

“I’m saying…” He stops, frustration clear in the set of his shoulders. “I’m saying that Dylan seems to think you’re avoiding everyone. That you’re lonely. And if that’s because of me… if you’re staying away from things because you don’t want to run into me…”

I scoff. I actually scoff out loud. “You think mighty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“Tess, listen⁠—”

He reaches across the table, his fingers closing around my wrist.

The contact is electric. Fire races up my arm, spreading through my chest, settling low in my belly. My breath hitches. My body reacts instantly, treacherously, leaning into his touch. My Omega instincts purr in my ear, recognizing the grip of an Alpha who once held my heart.

I don’t pull away immediately. For a second, a heartbeat, I let him hold me. I let myself feel the warmth, the rough calluses on his palms, the strength in his fingers.

Then my brain catches up.

I yank my hand back as if he’s burned me.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just… I needed you to listen.”

“I listened,” I say, my voice shaking with anger. “And I heard you. You think I’m some pathetic, lonely little Omega who is pining away in her tower because of you. You think I need you to give me the green light to go have a life.”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

“You didn’t have to come all this way to give me your pity, Wyatt.” I stand up. “I don’t fucking need it.”

“Tess, wait⁠—”

“I’m strong,” I say, the words choking me. “I’m okay. I built a life I love. I don’t need you swooping in to save me from loneliness. I don’t need anyone.”

I turn and walk away before he can see the tears burning the corners of my eyes.

I push through the swinging door into the kitchen, my chest heaving.

Mom is standing by the oven, pulling out a tray of muffins. She looks at me, concern etching lines into her face.

“Tess? Honey, are you okay?”

I can’t speak. If I speak, I’ll scream. I just nod, forcing a tight smile that probably looks like a grimace. “I’m fine. Just… work stuff. I have to go.”

“Tess—”

“I’ll call you later.”

I burst out the back door into the cold alleyway.

I walk to my Jeep, my boots crunching on the packed snow. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get the key into the lock.

I climb inside and slam the door shut, sealing myself in.

The silence is deafening.

I grip the steering wheel, staring out the windshield at the brick wall of the building next door.

I want to scream. I want to put my head back and roar until my throat bleeds.

He thinks I’m lonely. He thinks I’m sad. He thinks I’m avoiding the world because of him.

The arrogance. The stupidity.